Hellish Love
by LJ1983
Summary: A series of short drabble stories centered around the Kirsty/Pinhead relationship, based on random words...Some dark, some sweetly sinful, some just plain sweet...
1. Desire

**Hellish Love**

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_Disclaimer__ - I own nothing. Rated T to be safe._

_Note__ - Thought I'd give one of these drabble challenge fics a try. They seem like a lot of fun, and readers appear to get a real buzz out of them. I'm surprised no one has ever done one for Hellraiser or Pinsty before. Ah well. I am well known from these parts for writing fluff and heart breaking Pinsty romances, and comedies too, but it is my wish for this fic I go darker with the Pinsty relationship. I hope to go darker overall in my writing, and this is a stepping stone into that hope. As much as I like fluff I do enjoy a bit of darkness from time to time. ;) Otherwise, this drabble fic has a whole raft of different kinds of moods, from dark to totally sweet. You'll see. ;) I also intend to make my drabbles here a lot longer than their a hundred word limit. Some drabbles can be so small, and I really want to make each of these drabble like a little story in themselves. That's the plan anyways. ;) Please enjoy, and leave comments and reviews if you want more. I need to know what you think. D ~ Laura_

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1: Desire

He had watched her from another realm for over two decades, infatuated and obsessed. He had searched for her and eventually found her, after twenty years of toil and bloodshed in trying to snare her for his own dark pleasures.

Though her hidden lust and desires had been obvious to him underneath that facade of innocence she worn across a face of unimaginable beauty, she had to come to terms with that desire. He had to earn her honesty of her desire in return. It was easier said than done.

Despite opening the box once again she remained in utter denial, as always. But deep down she had wanted all of this, just as much as he, and this was what he loved about their cat and mouse game. Ultimately, so did she.

"You're mine now!" He had whispered possessively following the solving of the puzzle, dragging her into the claustrophobic embrace of his leather bound arms and kissing the hollow of her ear, sending an unnerving chill down her spine.

Kirsty's eyes fluttered closed, knowing no truer words had ever been spoken to her. As much as she hated the idea of being his she knew there was no other choice.

She had fought him, took him on, put across that same old innocent and defiant facade, and remained in blissful ignorance about her desire for Hell...for _him._

But even she couldn't keep it up forever.

In time, she had learnt to completely honest with him about her own desires...


	2. Passion

**Note - **A big thanks to the one reviewer for the first drabble. Glad you enjoyed it. More is on the way, I assure you. Starting with this one. ;) I won't reveal the 28 more I have to come, though. But gosh, these may be very small stories but they're not as easy as you think to write. LOL. But it sure is fun. Once again, thanks for reading.

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2: Passion

The Dark Prince of Pain has always been so stoic, so calm. So completely passive in his dealings within the human realm. So distantly cold with the many Supplicants who had summoned him over the many years he'd been a Cenobite.

But yet with _her..._and only _her_...a fiery passion would wash over him. A burning passion which would utterly consume his otherwise cold heart whenever he'd come into contact with her. His usually inscrutable ebony eyes would glitter with this passion during their encounters.

He hoped she wouldn't notice too much. To notice would make him appear weak.

He'd had very little passion for his calling, his otherworldly dealings...for the pain he bestowed on his summoners. But for Kirsty Cotton, this one little precious human, he would make an exception.

Always. For as long as their game played on...


	3. Toxic

**Note - **Hi there. :) I have returned, with not one, two - but THREE drabbles. :D They appear quite bulky and long...ish. Sorry about that. XD Hope you enjoy them anyway. Thanks for reading. ;)

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3: Toxic

Kirsty had always believed she was a good person. She'd always had this marvelous way of making others believe she was a naive, innocent soul. On the surface it would appear so. She even believed it herself.

But looks can be deceptively deceiving.

She might have had some spark of purity left within her...until the day she met _him_.

She could feel the poison running through her veins with every single encounter between her and the Pinned One. Whenever she was in his presence she felt an uncontrollable surge of darkness throughout her soul, almost as if he himself was drip feeding her the deadliest poison, until the blood flowing through her veins were polluted with his very own darkness.

He had been corrupting her, seducing her with his dark ways from day one. She had come into fruition the very moment she had aimed a gun at her lowly husband's head.

The Pinned One had smiled, smug that finally his chosen one, his prized human, had embraced her darkest desires.

But it was too late for redemption.

There was nothing left of Kirsty Cotton but a toxic soul...


	4. Jealousy

4: Jealousy

He was a Cenobite; he was not meant to feel. Of course, he had been human in a life prior to this one. He had emotions deep down, naturally. But from the moment he had been dragged to this world, to serve it, the moment he was ripped apart and reborn into the calculating creature he was now, he had been taught with severity on how to quench his humanistic thoughts, his feelings - his emotions, by his new Lord and father, Leviathan.

It took years of toil and struggling, and even severe punishment, but eventually the Dark Prince of Pain could keep a lid on the anger he felt, the pain. Love, hatred, despair..._jealousy_. He had been passive, cold and unfeeling for decades. So indifferent to the suffering of others that he may as well have been artificial.

But then...he met _her_.

Kirsty Cotton.

He didn't know why at the time, but those emotions he'd been taught to keep under control had burst forth from the confines of his soul like a trail of fireworks. For the first time in years, he felt. And with the many other emotions he felt, the one which was the most inconvenient for him had ignited when he had noticed his prized soul had supposedly found happiness and love with a human man...

..._jealousy._ Intense and burning right through to the very bone.

It had been unsettling for the Dark Prince. He didn't know why he felt it, he just knew that this man had no right to lay a single finger upon her flesh. Her flesh had been marked, by him, long before, and that was what had driven him to take the laws of Hell into his own hands...and tear Kirsty and this despicable creature apart.

And he could not rest, and his jealousy would not diminish, until he had accomplished his mission...


	5. Anger

5: Anger

Xipe Totec had always had an incredible anger dwelling deep within him, lurking like some proverbial monster waiting to be unleashed onto the unsuspecting world.

This part of him had always been the most dangerous, the most terrifying.

But, for all the years he'd been serving this world of pain, the monster had been leashed. Kept under control by the calm and patient demeanor he'd built up.

He hadn't any clue as to why this anger was there or why he possessed it. Until the day _she_ had been in danger, and he had to step in to protect her. To _save_ her.

Kirsty Cotton had reminded him of his humanity - a time long since passed, with the help of a single photograph. A photograph of _him_, as he had been. _Human._

_Human..._so flawed, so full of emotion.

In a flash, he'd remembered everything. Right down to that leashed anger which raged beneath the surface. And he understood why he'd become the monster. His anger had helped to create it.

But that day, The Prince of Pain's anger had surely come to good use, as it swelled in abundance when that interloper, the Cenobittic Channard, had threatened to hurt Kirsty. And for once, he was not afraid to unleash the anger in order to protect the young woman who had saved him from himself...


	6. Betrayal

6: Betrayal

Kirsty had been betrayed by everyone she had ever known, even her own flesh and blood. Her Uncle, her Step Mother, even her ex-boyfriend Steve had left her languishing in the Channard Institute - never bothering to visit or inquire of her welfare. Not that Kirsty blamed him, of course. Even Doctor Channard had betrayed her; he was her psychiatric doctor, he was supposed to _help_ her, make her feel well again. Except he abused the trust of not just her, but all the other patients of that hospital. It still unnerved her to this day that a man in a position of trust and authority had so easily exploited her.

It seemed so clear to her that it was always the decent ones who died like her father and Kyle, or shied away from her like Steve. And _him _as he had been as a human...he'd died. She hadn't even seen Tiffany for years, the same young and very mute teenage girl she had met at Channard's Institute. She had hoped to contact her again, but Kirsty didn't wish to risk anything. Either Tiffany's life...or her own heart.

Was it any wonder why Kirsty was mistrustful and suspicious of every single person who came into her life? She drove most of them away with her defensive attitude before she could even come to know them.

Then one day, she met Trevor. Trevor Gooden. Tall, handsome, twinkly blue eyes and a mischievous smile to boot, Trevor also appeared kind and receptive to Kirsty. Understanding and accepting. She had found herself warming to him, falling in love with him, and in no time the pain of her past had been buried, along with the memories of _him._

But then, Trevor did the unspeakable; he back stabbed her. In the worst possible way imaginable. When he was supposed to love and protect her.

Of course, it'd been the last straw, and once again - in the height of her anger and need for revenge - she turned to_ him_, the Pinned One, who didn't need much persuasion into assisting Kirsty in avenging her broken heart. And in time, Trevor Gooden paid the ultimate price for betraying Kirsty Cotton - his life. The Pinned One had saved her yet again from another betrayer, even if he never said as much in words. It is all so clear to her now.

Kirsty knew, deep down within her darkened soul, even if his intentions were far from honourable, that_ he _would never - ever - betray her.

For as long as he existed.


	7. Seduction

7: Seduction

He had always found her presence intoxicating and exhilarating. Every little detail, from her flawless flesh to her stubborn attitude, it drew him to her like a moth to a flame. He had wanted her from the moment he first laid eyes on her...firstly because of her innocence and youth. But now, her ever darkening soul and her ripened succulent flesh was what he most desired.

He'd wanted her; not to suffer, no, but as a mate, a consort...his very own_ lover_. She was his equal in every single way that counted.

He didn't know what it was that was so special about this one human that he should exempt her from full pain and suffering, what drew him in, or why he thought she was above all the other mortals who had summoned him over the years - all he knew was that he had to have her...one way or another.

He had always longed to tempt and entice her, and slowly throughout the years his very presence had done so without her conscious knowledge. She wanted him, just as strongly as he wanted her.

But, he had to admit, it was he - Xipe Totec, the Dark Prince of Pain and Son of Leviathan - who was being seduced...and Kirsty Cotton had been seducing him, from the very beginning. Even if she hadn't been aware.

And for once he welcomed seduction from a mortal with open arms, for only her would he indulge...


	8. Dreams

8: Dreams

Kirsty's dreams were always so vivid. Always had been, since she had met _him_. They were always so fraught with a jumble of erotic and torturous images flashing throughout her mind. In some she'd be running for her very life from the man with the sharp, gleaming pins in his head as he stalked her like a hungry lion. Yet with others, to her bemusement, she lay across clean, crisp silken sheets of a Kingsize bed, and writhing under a muscular, male body, making passionate love to him. He was cold to the touch, even in sleep, but she could not see him. His face hid in darkness, as did most of his body.

But she knew who he was.

Everything was always a haze of silken touches and orgasmic pleasures...

"I'm coming for you." A familiar soft whisper had always echoed in her ears. In the waking world, she would always toss and turn, gripping the sheets under her fingers, skin soaked in sweat...yet in the dreamworld, she enjoyed his intimacy. His erotic touches would send her screaming to the pinnacle of ecstasy. A cold gust of wind would remove her blanket in the real world, always exposing her goose-bumped legs. Strong, chilled fingers would brush loose strands of her smooth brown hair away from her face, never failing in sending chills down her spine.

"We'll be together again soon, Kirsty." His voice would whisper again.

Finally, she'd open her eyes, sit up, and took a mouthful of air, trying to calm her pounding heart and half glaring toward the puzzle box which sat upon her dresser - its golden, polished faces shining under the moon's light.

Kirsty was never sure whether to fear her own dreams which were conjured from her very own heart and soul...or embrace them...


	9. Evil

9: Evil

Kirsty had always believed him to be evil incarnate. With eyes like his, those coal black eyes, and his cool otherworldly appearance she could be forgiven for thinking such a thing. He'd done nothing to either confirm her belief, or deny it. He never even appeared insulted by the notion. Quite the contrary; he'd always seemed amused by her thoughts.

_"There is no good...there is no evil, there is only flesh." _He had once told another, years before, when the darkest part of his soul had taken control and had run rampant without the constraints of not only the laws of Hell, but his own consciousness also.

But he never really believed that, deep down. There were many shades of grey, yes, and no black and white. But he had never been, since the moment he had been born as flesh and blood two centuries previously, as evil as most believed. He'd never had an evil bone in his entire body.

He was simply...a very _dark_ individual. Dark and disillusioned.

He would never inform Kirsty of that, though. Oh no.

He would leave her to ponder her thoughts and discover the truth for herself; that the pinned demon stalking her was far from evil...and that it was the very humans in her life that truly were...


	10. Hero

10: Hero

Kirsty scarcely needed a man to save her from whatever danger she found herself in. Most days she possessed such iron might and strong will, a stubbornness which was evident in her brown eyes which screamed she would rather see the one who had threatened harm upon her in Hell. She might have passed for a damsel in distress with her innocent facade and softly doe eyes, but looks could be very deceiving, and she was more than far from a screaming, fainting damsel.

She could kick the butt of any bearer of harm, whoever it was. Sure, she had always been fragile goods and could scream and cry with the best of them, but a terrified Kirsty Cotton was a pissed off Kirsty Cotton.

She had proven her worth when up against her evil Uncle and Stepmother, who'd wanted to kill her...and of course the Cenobites. When her ex-boyfriend Steve had breezed into the burning house of her dead father, hoping to save her, it had actually turned to the contrary. It was_ Kirsty _who had actually saved Steve on that eventful night as well as herself, and she had refused his help point blank in getting out of that mess.

But, there had been times when she couldn't rely on her sharp will and fierce attitude, and had to be saved from another on several occasions when she least suspected it.

Thrice now he has come to her rescue, without the gallantry and without the arrogant attitude of course. But he had saved her. And each time it had surprised her. She'd neither asked him to do it, nor did he appear he wanted to.

She'd always thought herself to be pretty much near invincible and able to take care of herself without the help of a man. But the Prince of Pain would often remind her that she was still vulnerable and liable to fall. Subconsciously, she'd come to rely on him to rid her of her enemies, and for that he was smug.

He was her unlikely Knight in Shining Armour...her hero in black. Not that she'd ever admit it...


	11. Familiar

11: Familiar

Kirsty wasn't quite sure as to why this grainy old photograph had enraptured her so. There had been something so very familiar about the handsome man who stared back at her from the picture...

She had been scoping through Channard's researches into the box and Hell for a while now as she waited for Kyle to finish looking round the doctor's country home for evidence to support Channard's less than professional conduct with the patients in his care, and these sketches, texts, snippets from magazine articles, and his very own theories into the Lament Configuration had sent a horrifying chill creeping along her spine. But this one photo seemed to have stood out the most. A photo of a man, dressed in the old style military uniform, possibly from the 1920s. She had no inkling as to why Channard of all people kept such a photo. Was it a distant relative? No, of course not. Perhaps it was someone who'd opened the box, like Frank. Yeah, it had to be.

Even though there was no colour present in the picture, being so old of course, there was just something about the soldier's eyes. She..._knew_...them from somewhere. They seemed to be swimming in sadness, such pain. But there was this lingering feeling as she saw those eyes staring back at her from the photo that they had glared right through to her soul once before. And his pose; the tall, stoic and upright stance which screamed authority and leadership.

Kirsty just _knew_ she had seen this face before; this handsome, gentlemanly appearing face...She took a brief glance at the notes written beside the picture; _'Spencer, Elliot, Captain - 1920' _it had stated, with;_ 'Missing - Presumed Lost on Active Duty, Far East'. _Then she turned the page, seeing a to scale sketch of a male head demonstrating a grid-like pattern across his face, indicating what looked like nails should be driven into the intersections. Her heart ceased its beatings in an instant and her breath caught in her throat, gawking back to the photo of the soldier from the previous page with a renewed recognition.

She'd been right; the eyes were now a different colour and his face had been altered so grotesquely with pins and scars, but even so - she had thought that the handsome soldier had looked so eerily familiar...


	12. Obsidian

12: Obsidian

Black had never really been Kirsty's favourite colour. It was, to her mind, a somewhat evil and depressing colour. It was always void of life, blank, filled with nothingness. She'd always more or less preferred blue, a cheerful hue to a colour which more or less represented death and depression.

Then she had looked into _his _eyes, eyes as black as the night. Like polished marble. Immediately she would think of the rarest dark diamonds; sparkly obsidian diamonds. They were like pools of slick that she couldn't help but want to drown in. They seldom appeared evil, nor demonic, considering who he was. Despite how there seemed there was no life present within those coal eyes, Kirsty was often reminded of a little lost puppy as such sadness dwelled beneath the surface.

It had been those obsidian eyes that had swayed her, made her feel sorry for him...even tugged at her heart strings. And what's more; her favourite colour blue had been the true colour of his eyes when human.

Either colour, blue or obsidian, Kirsty Cotton always believed that the Prince of Hell had exquisitely lovely eyes; though she'd never admit it...

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**Note - **Ah, c'mon...who here doesn't love Pinhead's eyes? They're so beautiful. Either way. *O* You can see Kirsty was also drawn in too. Why not? ;) And I know I'm taking a huge leap here in stating that Kirsty's favourite colour was blue, but it doesn't matter. This is fanfiction, and I don't seem to remember Kirsty mentioning her favourite colours at all. She strikes me as a blue kind a gal really. ;) Hope you enjoyed. ;D


	13. Destiny

13. Destiny

Kirsty had never believed in fate. Never. Only coincidences No one had a set life plan. Destiny was for fairy tales; for fantasy stories she'd always read as a little girl. She'd scoff at the idea of being destined for one singular fate, incredulous to even think that every human on the planet each had their own that they'd fulfill one day, whether it was something to marvel at, or something more innately sinister.

How wrong she had been, for she'd had a destiny more momentous than anything she'd imagine.

She'd always believed that when she'd solved the puzzle box so long ago in the lonely hospital room, it'd been an innocent and honest mistake. She hadn't known its purpose. She'd not known of the world waiting on the other side of the box waiting for her. That world was her destiny, and the box had always been waiting for her, since long before her birth.

Since before she'd even laid hands on the LeMarchand's box, since before her fingers caressed the many grooves and patterns, she'd been destined for something more than living this mundane life.

The Prince of Pain had always known that a chosen one, a girl with an innocent facade, a wolf in sheep's clothing, was destined to one day open the box and set destiny in motion. That girl was destined to not only rule Hell...but become his dark bride. He just hadn't known that this stubborn willed teenage girl named Kirsty Cotton was that chosen one many had spoken of...

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**Note - ***shrugs* This one is a little AU since again I'm taking a big leap in stating Kirsty had a destiny, and with Pinhead, and that's why she opened the box. I'm kind of going by the intended ending for _Hellraiser III_, in which Joey became Pinhead's Hell Bride. Since Joey had been Kirsty's replacement for the film's heroine, as it states in my book, then it's logical to assume that if Kirsty had been in HR3 then undoubtedly she'd have become Pinhead's bride too. I like that idea. It made me think that she was destined, so this drabble came to be when the word 'destiny' came up on the list. Hope you liked. ;)


	14. Corkscrews

14. Corkscrews

The Prince of Pain had been mesmerized, quite humanly, by the untameable curls for hair that Kirsty had possessed when so young and tender. Even long before she'd revealed his humanity to him. It was to the point of pure obsession for him where it concerned Kirsty Cotton. Not just her young and flawless flesh had tempted him so, but her ringlets of corkscrew curls had too. They'd fascinated him to no end.

He'd been almost tempted to delve his ice cold hands deep within them, to explore every smooth strand with his long and skilled fingers. Although it was a brutal thought, a part of him had longed to also rip the hair right from her follicles, to keep it as a memento But that would have been too much. Besides, the hair looked so much better being a part of her.

When she'd called for him a third time, grown and wedded to a lowly human man, he was disappointed to see her hair had been straightened. Not longer was it untameable. Those corkscrews that had fascinated him so had long gone. It almost saddened him.

Well, if he'd get his way - and he'd be successful in changing her to one of his kind, then the first order of business would be to make Kirsty Cotton's hair possess the tempting, beautiful locks of corkscrew curls she'd had so long ago...


	15. Skin

15: Skin

He had seen many a skin in his reign as the Prince of Hell. He had tortured the flesh of many, from tanned to pale, from flawed to the flawless. There were many ways of marking it - he could rip it, scratch it, slice it, stretch it, burn it, whip it. Skin had been like that of a blank canvas, and he its artist ready to inflict his brutal masterpiece upon it.

Initially he had enjoyed discovering the varied kind of skin, when he had been young and eager. But soon, it grew quite tiresome, he had lost his enthusiasm, and he'd been running low on ways to express his imagination. It had become too easy, too dull. Same old, same old.

He had grown very weary. Bored. He longed for a challenge, a unique kind of skin.

And then he met _her..._Kirsty Cotton, and his curiosity, his imagination and eagerness had gone into overdrive.

Her skin was perfect, absolutely flawless. There was something so different about it which set it apart from the rest. It called out to him like a prayer, tempting him, enticing him...She, a teenager at the time of first meeting, had the smoothest creamy skin that he longed to stroke and discover. He had been called by many teenagers in his time, and neither had had the exquisite flesh like that of this girl.

She was utterly perfect beyond words, and he could hardly wait to turn her into his greatest masterpiece of all.

But then, she'd done the unthinkable. She'd reminded him of the human he'd once been. A human man, a good human. And in a rush his conscious had kicked in, and he no longer wished to mar her beautiful flesh.

Years on, following his rebirth, he again lusted her flesh...her skin. But for an entirely different purpose. He'd wanted it, not marred, torn, bleeding, or burned...oh no. He wanted it pressed up against his, he wanted it blended and joined with his. His hand longed to stroke and feel, discover. He wished to rip the clothing from her body and discover the hidden parts of her skin. His desire was all too human now. He desired her, wanted her...loved her even, and so therefore her flesh was exempt from utter pain.

And he would allow no other lay a finger upon her beautiful skin; save for himself...


	16. Shirtless

16: Shirtless

Kirsty had never wanted to imagine him naked in the early days. She had always shuddered at the thought, believing he possessed a body with skin so purely stark white all over, leathery and smothered with never healing sores and boils. She thought he'd be utterly bony and with the look of an under-nourished hobo.

How wrong she had been. Now she had excepted her place at his side, she remembered the day she had been given the opportunity to see him completely shirtless.

_Shirtless_. Was such a thing even possible for a Cenobite to remove that leather clothing? Well, apparently so.

It had been really sudden, out of the blue. She hadn't expected to see him like this, he'd never given her a prior warning. But then again, why should he? This was his home, his realm. He was the Prince, the leader. Leviathan's favourite son. He had every right to remove his shirt. Or...whatever it was he wore on his upper torso.

It was the first thing she noticed when he returned to their chambers, back from consulting with Leviathan over a matter. Usually, her own eyes would always be fixed upon his eyes, at all times. But this time, oh this time her eyes couldn't help but wander to his bare torso. He was shirtless only, he still wore his cassock. But it'd been enough to send her arousal spiraling out of control. It had been a surprise, mainly because she'd always believed he couldn't remove his clothes. They'd always seemed stitched to him. Well, looked it like he could remove it after all.

She subconsciously licked her lips as her eyes traveled hungrily across his form, devouring every last part of him. With all the thick leather that perpetually covered him day in day out, she had failed to determine just how strong, muscular and broad he was; the strong tight biceps in his upper arms, the bulging abdominal muscles, the sizable pecs which were essentially nipple-less and were exposed of the glistening muscle, dripping with blood. She licked her lips again, breathing heavily. The blood trickles from the ever brutal afflictions across his body did nothing to kill her lust, in fact it grew in abundance.

They'd made love countless times since she'd joined him. She was still human, he hadn't changed her. But she was now ageless and immortal as he. But when they made love, he'd remain clothed. Only she became naked. Previously, she'd been thankful for his decision to keep himself covered, despite how much of an attentive, excellent lover he was. But now, with the knowledge of the desirable body which lay underneath she wished she could make love to him with those wondrous Godly muscles under her palms. Well, next time they coupled she would demand he'd take his shirt off, or...or...hell she'd go mad.

Had the Prince of Pain been aware of her arousal all along? Had he known his shirtless torso evoked such a powerful lust for him tenfold? He had done this on purpose? One would not know. But inwardly, he had smirked at reading her thoughts. Maybe he should be shirtless more often...

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**Note -** ;3 I'm sorry, but a drabble like this was a must. Pinhead does strike me as someone who under that leather hides such a deliciously muscular body. And who's to say he wouldn't walk around the Labyrinth shirtless? It's quite something for us females to drool upon, heh, along with Kirsty there. ;) Sorry if she seemed somewhat OOC but hey...it's just fanfiction. ;)


	17. Shadow

**Note -** This is a short one for now, after the outrageous long-ass previous drabble. XD I wasn't particularly inspired enough for this one. It didn't spark anything. :/ Hope you like anyhow.

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17: Shadow

Kirsty had learnt over the years to be wary of shadows. To others, shadows may have appeared harmless, a projection that intercepts rays of light, but to her she had known that something eerie and sinister hid themselves within them. Something that went way beyond the mere imagination of any human.

Though she never really was certain, she always believed deep down that _he _would hide in the shadows, cloaked from her at all times and watching her, waiting to grab her.

But more so than most, shadows were dark...just like her...


	18. Possessive

18: Possessive

He had once told her so long ago that they, the Cenobites, would have eternity to know her flesh. The tone of his voice, so inviting and dripping with seductive cunning, had told her otherwise. No; it wouldn't be the Cenobites who would have eternity to know her flesh - it would have been_ him _and_ him _alone who'd have had that eternity of exploring every curve and inch of her flesh. No other. The possessive gleam in his otherwise inscrutable coal eyes had been an obvious testament to that. Even back then, during the Channard Institute massacre before he had been reminded of his humanity.

He had been, and still was, greedy and always wanted her to himself. Despite his cool, calm persona, the pinned Cenobite had always come across as possessive. It was plainly obvious when she looked into his eyes; they screamed that he wanted Kirsty for his own sadistic pleasures and no other would have her. Back when she had first met him, when she had been a young and naive teenager, the very thought of such a demonic creature wanting her and being possessive over her body and soul had shuddered her right through to the bone. It had sickened her, the mere thought of being the very delight of sordid mind. But now she was grown, mature, aware of her own desires...and just as obsessive of him as he with her. Even marrying a mortal man had not distracted her, or erased him from her thoughts. She wanted him bad, always had and always would be.

Not long after her husband's death, she offered herself to him, after many years of running. She had given up. Of course, there was much more to wanting her flesh that met the eye; he'd wanted her as a mate, a consort. His wife. That way it was official she was his and his alone. He would not have any other creature of that realm touch her...only he would have the pleasure.

Kirsty was happy with the arrangement, just so long as no other female would dare to touch him, as she too had grown possessive over him...


	19. Family

19: Family

Kirsty had been languishing alone since her father's death. She had no other family in existence. None by blood who was still alive. Her mother had been dead since she was eight years old. She had no siblings; she'd been an only child, she had no aunts or uncles she could think of - her father hadn't told her of any she had from either maternal or paternal side, her grandparents had passed away long before she could even remember, and even though it was rumoured she had one or two cousins knocking around, fathered of course by her long dead perverted Uncle Frank, it was hard to know where to start in tracking them down. She'd been wary of contacting them in any case. They had been the love children of the man who had abused her and killed her dad after all.

It was really quite a shame to know that she had no relative to her name. Only a tainted hefty inheritance bequeathed from both her father and uncle.

There had been a glimmer of hope when one day, a year after marrying her deceiving pig of a husband, Trevor Gooden, she'd discovered she was pregnant. She hadn't been so happy in all her life. This had been her chance, a chance to be surrounded by those who'd unconditionally love her. A _family_.

But, it wasn't meant to have been. She'd suffered a particularly nasty miscarriage, one that almost killed her. Trevor had been attentive and caring, but looking back Kirsty could now tell it had been crocodile tears he'd shed for the child that had never been. And his betrayal of her years later and confirmation that he never loved her, only wanted her money, had forced Kirsty to believe dishearteningly that she'd never have the family she so desired, and she'd forever be alone.

Until...the very moment she opened the box once more, not long after Trevor's death, and had given herself to _him. _She hadn't realized until now; the Cenobites had potential to be her family. And they were. They were there for her, treated her with equality and the attention that was deserved of her. And the Pinned One; well, she had been wedded to him the moment she relinquished herself to him. He was her husband...and the father of the child growing in her now bulging, unholy womb.

At last, she was part of a family...

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**Note -** Ok, well I'm taking another leap in stating that Kirsty had unofficial cousins around all over the place, but when you think about it, it makes sense. Both myself and my friend Izzy do have a theory that Kirsty has this one cousin who is a part of the HR universe and he's... ;) But we won't tell you who. You'd have to read our future stories to work out who. :) And as for the ending here, well it always struck me that Kirsty could have a family with the Cenobites who would treat her equally. And she'd be consorted to Pinhead himself, and who knows? Perhaps she'd have gotten pregnant? It's a possibility. I'm actually following the canon plot of another one of my stories; _Raising Hell_. You'd have to read it to get it. ;) Another thing, speaking of babies, I often wondered if Kirsty had ever been pregnant to Trevor but lost the baby, one way or another whether it was abortion or miscarriage. I wouldn't be surprised. -_- Poor Kirsty. It makes her story so much more tragic to know she could have had a child. ;_; Oh well. Hope you liked! :D


	20. Lover

20: Lover

She'd had many lovers in her time; some attentive, some not so. She'd never been short of men wanting to woo her. But ultimately they'd never turn out to be 'the one' that she hoped to be with. Most of the time her passion and unfettered erotic hunger between the sheets had scared off potential men after her heart; some had fled her before they could even come to know her, subconsciously fearing her for the darkness that seemed to emanate from her like a dark, bleak cloud. Added to that, she'd always had a demonic stalker ensuring that no other man touched her.

If he couldn't have her, than no other would.

No mortal man could ever begin to fathom just how special, how deeply dark, Kirsty Cotton was. It was beyond the understanding of any mere man. But he understood her all too well, for he was no ordinary man. Her soul, her flesh had been made for him and him alone. That is why men were scared off by her highly ravenous, erotic appetites...why they fled from her presence. Why most had betrayed her, like Trevor had.

But once he had seen off his latest rival for Kirsty Cotton's flesh...and heart, the Prince of Pain had hoped she would give in and become the lover he had hoped she'd become; a lover worthy of him...


	21. Kiss

21: Kiss

So many men had longed to kiss the full, red rose lips of Kirsty Cotton. The Prince of Hell was no exception. Only difference was, unlike her human admirers, his kisses would be far from sweet; they'd be much more brutal and forceful, one that would leave a bruise around the rims of her mouth. And instead of it being a symbol of love and affection, his kiss would mean he had made his mark on her, that he was making her his property.

From the surface this would appear to be so. Deep down, his buried all too human feelings thought the contrary. His humanity fought mightily with his demonic darkness, dueling between the other like a White and Dark Knight over their Princess. Deep down he knew that he longed to kiss her softly, and tenderly, and not leave a bruise. He didn't wish to leave his mark on her, make her his property. Oh no.

He wanted to kiss her for all the right reasons...as a symbol of his dark love for her. And he would only make her the exception...

One day that moment did come to pass. He had _kissed _her. The pinned Cenobite had actually _kissed _Kirsty Cotton.

When that fated moment had arrived, and they had shared their very first kiss, it had been moments after Kirsty unsealed the schism for the last time. Not long after Trevor's death. It had been a real mixture of wild passion, dominance, anger...and sweet tenderness. His icy lips had ravaged her full ruby ones as he dragged her into his embrace. Blood welled between their mouths as their eager teeth bit through each others' lips. She had returned the kiss, kissing him with the right amount of sweetness and heated passion to rival his.

Kirsty was pleasantly surprised. She had never thought it possible for the Pinned One to kiss her. The protuberances of pins embedded in his head would most likely have made it impossible aside from the possibly horrid taste he would leave in her mouth. Though the pins had scraped along her tender flesh, they hadn't interfered too much. In fact, she found that the tickling and scraping from the tips arousing. She had always thought that his lips would taste like a corpse's, like death itself. But no. She was wrong. He tasted exquisite, like a fine red wine. He was a wondrous, exuberant kisser, and she wanted more...


	22. Mischief

Note - Heh, this is quite a naughty one I'm afraid. Not that you're complaining. ;) It's not too much, but take heed. Please enjoy. :)

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22. Mischief

It was to his complete and utter surprise, and somewhat amusement, to learn that Kirsty Cotton was a mischievous soul. Once she had learnt how to get along in his world, her new home, grow familiar with her new surroundings and to except him and his kind for what and who they were, she had relaxed and had even grown more confident in how she would interact with him. She had fully come to terms with her desires for him, and no longer denied that she wanted him.

She had been his human pet for a good while now. She was still human, but subject to the same immortality as her Cenobittic co-inhabitants. She would never age, get sick, or grow old. She still remained as beautiful and luxurious as the day she had summoned him for the last time...and _seductive._

He always enjoyed the games she played with him, the ones where she would tease him, arouse him enough to the point of near release before grinning evilly and sprinting off into the maze of the Labyrinth hoping he would give chase and find her.

First, she would reveal her shapely thigh to him, smoothing her hand across the luscious flesh. She would always watch his expression carefully, watch for changes to his usually deadly calm expression; for signs of lust or desire. She would near him slowly, pushing her breasts against him, kiss, lick and bite his neck, toy with the tool belt stitched through his naval. There'd be still no flicker of desire within his eyes, even if a lower part of his body told her otherwise. It would grow between her legs, straining painfully against his leathers. Then she'd take this game to a whole higher level - or more appropriately..._lower_, as she would slide down his body slowly, until eye level with the evidence of his arousal, and she would free it before claiming the throbbing organ with her hot and eager mouth...then when she'd played with him long enough she'd make a run for it, with him in hot pursuit.

Despite the vastness of the Labyrinth, he'd find her. Oh he always found his vixen of a human mate. And when he did find her, Kirsty Cotton would always soon enough pay a huge price for the mischief she brought upon him...and it would cost her very dearly...


	23. Touch

23: Touch

The Prince of Pain longed to touch her, ached to brush his dead fingers across her heated flesh. The flesh of Kirsty Cotton; very tempting, the Holy Grail of human flesh, and it would be his one day, and his only. No other would have the divine right to lay a finger upon it. He of course was divided on how his hands should react to the soft husk of her body once it was in his possession; tear the delicious creamy flesh apart...or stroke it lovingly, caress it like he would a lover?

It certainly wouldn't be the first time he had touched her. Their flesh had briefly brushed together once, many years ago, when she had presented him with the photograph of his human self. Their fingers barely touched as the photo was exchanged. But in that short moment, the feeling of his cold fingers against hers sent a shudder of electricity dancing along her spine. And he too, though he was unsure as to why he felt such a despised feeling. But once the truth came to light about his origins, he welcomed the feeling, and he would do anything to touch her again.

Only this time, he would receive more of a touch than simply a brief brushing together of their fingers...


	24. Explore

24: Explore

He had told her years ago to explore; explore the Labyrinth, explore Hell. Back then, back when she was a young, headstrong teenager and fearful of him and his world, Kirsty could hardly share in the Prince of Hell's sentiments regarding the world around her. What, exactly, was there to explore? The corridors she had found herself hurtling through in desperation to find her father were all the same. They were dull and vapid, a maze of terrible monotony that would have driven her mad. The sights in between the drab grey of the hallways, the sights of suffering and the damned, were certainly no better.

She didn't wish to explore such a place...or so she thought.

Had it been perhaps that she had refused to see the actual beauty the Labyrinth in her ignorance? Had there been an exquisite beauty which lay beneath the drab monotone all along? Was that why it had appeared that way to her during her first visit, because she had been stubborn and refused to see this world for the wonder and spendour it truly possessed beneath? And not just the sights either, but the people also...in particular one Cenobite whose grotesque handsome-ness enthralled her like no other man had?

Presently, after summoning the Dark Prince for the third and final time, Kirsty now looked upon the Labyrinth, and him, with more open and accepting eyes. And now she longed to explore these sights, the sights he was eager to show her for such a long time. But also, more than anything, she was hungry to explore every dip and curve of the Prince of Hell's body...


	25. Alike

25: Alike

They had been so alike. Still were. They were kindred spirits, like two damaged peas in a pod. She hadn't realized in all the time she had known him, in all the time she had run from him, just how much like him she was. Both were good people, corrupted by outside forces. Both had allowed curiosity to be their downfall. Both had been lured to the dark side.

The reason for this was simple; the Prince of Hell and Kirsty Cotton were soul mates, made for each other and destined to find one another at one point in life. That was why she had discovered the box in her uncle's possession, that was why she had unsealed the schism and unleashed him. They were fated to meet, and set a unconventional destiny in motion. But that destiny was not realized until the day she had shot her human husband in the head. It was then that she was consorted to the Cenobite who had shared so much in common with her...the former human who was alike her in so many ways...


	26. Devour

26: Devour

Kirsty had always felt whenever she had been in the presence of the Pinned One his eyes would scrutinize her, raking over her fine form with a definite gleam of hunger. She never knew what to make of his scrutiny, whether to fear it, find offense in it...or be flattered.

She never understood why his eyes glared right through to her soul with possessiveness, or why they came alive whenever he looked upon her. All she knew that she felt as if he was devouring her, from head to toe, with one simple look, and she wasn't all that sure that she hated it. Deep down she was the willing gourmet to his eyes, and he was the contented cat happy to devour her whole...


	27. Scream

27: Scream

There were many screams which rang through the Labyrinth. The screams of the damned; filled with agony, pain, unbearable ecstasy in which the sufferer found no release. They were like music to Xipe Totec's ears. He had heard them all, and would continue to for the rest of eternity he would serve this Hell.

But if there was one scream he would rather hear, one that would titillate his dead senses and satisfy his greed, then that would be Kirsty Cotton's exquisite screams. To him, it sounded akin to copper bells, like the calling of angels. It was one of many attributes which attracted him to her. But her screams of agony wouldn't just do, oh no. He wanted to hear her scream out in utter ecstasy, scream his name consistently with desire. Her lithe form would be beneath his as her screams of pleasure and pain filled the air and his eager ears, that's how he wanted it. And he wouldn't rest until Kirsty's screams tolled in Hell...


	28. Alone

28: Alone

Kirsty had felt so alone since the massacre at her old family home. She always felt she was surrounded by an impenetrable bubble, isolated from those around her. Those who were considered the 'norm', or not corrupted by darkness like she had. Even when she was surrounded by many friends, when married to her husband she felt the unbearable loneliness. It was like no one truly understood her, like they subconsciously feared her presence. Or perhaps it was her demonic stalker in leather, keeping potential love and happiness at bay. She would not have been surprised by that.

She'd felt separated from the rest of the human race, from normality. What was she to do?

She gave in.

When her hands caressed the lacquered surfaces of the box, she had felt an overwhelming shudder ripple through her body, heart and soul. She no longer felt alone. And when he came to her and offered his hand, promising her she would never be alone ever again, not with him and his ilk, she took the offered hand without hesitation, smiling up sadly to him. It didn't matter whether or not it had been he who had isolated her from others in an attempt to snare her for himself. She wanted him, and only him. That was all she would ever need.

He was right; for once in her life she was no longer alone...


	29. Smile

29: Smile

The Prince of Hell had never seen her smile, a genuine smile born of happiness not one filled with mock and determination. Of all the encounters between the two of them Kirsty had been too busy pleading for her life and for leniency, too busy crying and snarling, to actually smile.

It had been something trivial that had made her smile a beaming smile at him. Something and nothing. He rarely understood human customs or emotions, despite being human himself long ago. But he had done something which caused her lips to spread right across her beautiful flawless face, making it reach her ears. Her perfect teeth were brightly gleaming and set wonderfully against those warm, ruby lips. It was a coy, flirtatious kind of smile, he thought. It near enough took his laboured breath away. She had the smile of an angel, a little lost angel.

Of course, being a creature who has dedicated his existence to pain, torture, and sensation since his humanity was lost, he would like nothing more than to stretch those lips into a permanent grinning grimace. But the human side of himself would always interfere, telling him to leave her be. Her flesh was, and always would be, perfect the way it is. Her lips, her smile, would be no exception.

So, instead of inflicting her lips with pain, he decided on giving her pleasure. He kissed her with such longing and passion which made her smile grow wider beneath the arctic chill of his own lips which too had spread into a rare, chilling smile...

* * *

**Note -** I dunno, is it just me or does Ashley Laurence, who plays Kirsty, have such a cute flirtacious smile? XD


	30. Legendary

30: Legendary

Once, over fifteen years previously, the Pinned One had spoken of how her suffering would be legendary. It was meant, obviously, as a threat. But now, that one syllable held a whole new different meaning altogether. She had become quite the legend through the years without ever realizing it. She'd become infamous, a well known adversary to Hell and its favourite son. Her deals, bargains and battles with the pinned Prince were to the fascination and amusement of many.

Kirsty Cotton was a living legend to the Labyrinth, to the Cenobites, but in an entirely different aspect to how she previously imagined it. She initially thought her suffering, her pain, would be legendary. But it hadn't been that at all. It was ALL her, and her alone, who was legendary.

Xipe Totec's desire and longing for her, his obsession and hunger for her soul, was known by all, and that was what amplified the legend between the Lead Cenobite and his prey.

Eventually, Kirsty Cotton surrendered to her darkest desires and submitted herself to him, became his lover and his very own equal a few years after the last deal. It was what followed, after her submission, that the Prince of Pain and his one time prey had become, to Kirsty's realization, truly legendary even in Hell...


	31. Feverish

**Note -** A very special thanks to Anon/Cringer for not only the praise, but for the suggestion of this word. I appreciate it. :) ~ Laura

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31: Feverish

Despite the coldness of his realm, of the stark white skin which he was fleshed with that was arctic to the touch, Kirsty could not help but come over all warm when she was in the Dark Prince's presence. Her cheeks would be set alight by his intense stare, of his regal voice which sent delicious hot shivers down her spine. With just one glance of his hypnotic coal eyes she would utterly melt, body and soul, like that of a layer of snow beneath the sun's roasting rays.

If surely he had the power to set her aflame through simply looking into her eyes, she ultimately feared - yet also anticipated - that if he touched her...that alone had the power to sear her flesh until she was nothing but ash and cinder.

More over, Kirsty Cotton had been feverish with the darkest desires which had so long ago corrupted her soul.

Though initially, through the years following their first meeting, she would adamantly refuse to show weakness to him and remain in stubborn denial, Kirsty would eventually cave and submit to her desires during the aftermath of her husband's death.

She had feverishly caressed the box's many grooves and patterns, her body and soul again setting alight with the sensual thrill. When the Prince of Hell finally made his appearance, he drew her to his coldly aroused body and the two consummated their mutual desire for one another through deliciously painful, if feverish, love making...


	32. Want

**Note - **I have returned, and with me I bring along a whole new batch of words. Sorry I've been a while, I've been having a hard time lately. :( With many special thanks to Izzy, iridescentZEN, Anon/Cringer, and 14Member for suggesting many of the words. I have more than enough now to do me for ages, so you don't have to suggest anymore to me. :) I hope you enjoy them all. This particular one was inspired today, but it wasn't from my list. It just popped into my head. It's a little mushy but I'm sure there's no complaints. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. ~ Laura

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32: Want

It was all within her subconsciousness, these desires. For all this time she hadn't been aware she longed for the 'other' world, for _him._ But now she knew it in her heart of hearts that for all these years her entire existence has been blighted by _him_, her stalker in black.

He was forbidden to her, but she still wanted him. She was not supposed to want him, but alas she did. She wanted his eyes just looking at her. She wanted his lips breathing her name.

She wanted his hands caressing her cheek, and every part of her body which cried out for his. She wanted his breath ghosting softly across her neck. She wanted his thoughts to be consumed by her. She wanted his studded tongue delved within her mouth and entwining, and dancing along with hers.

She wanted his body to be one with hers, dancing to an age old rhythm. The rougher the better. She wanted to master the tools of his trade and only he alone should be the one to teach her.

She is lucky, because she is the only one with whom his dark and cold heart desires.

Kirsty Cotton sees him watching her, sees his eyes sweeping her form. She still wants Xipe Totec, and now he's been summoned she has him...


End file.
